Songs of the X-Files
by aphleser
Summary: This will be a series of songfics on theme for the happenings and characters of the X-Files. Disclaimer; I own none of these songs, and none of these characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Here I begin another saga, a collection of songfics on certain themes within the X-Files. I recommed looking up these songs and listening to them so that you get the feel for the music. This first one is The Ronettes'** ** _Be My Baby._**

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Mulder and Scully sat in the car, silence thick between them. Mulder's arms were tight, elbows locked in the ten to two position on the wheel. Scully was entertaining herself with the sparse view.

The quiet was oppressive. The two had not talked in nearly three hours, passing road signs and weeds and the occasional hubcap in stubborn silence.

Their latest case had not been a success, to say the least. Mulder had done a Mulder; that is to say, had run off following an intriguing (for him) lead, leaving Scully to slice up bodies, sigh and deal with the idiots in local law enforcement.

Scully felt the sting of being ditched every time, and Mulder didn't seem to a) understand what it was he had done wrong, and b) care. They were supposed to be a partnership, a meeting of two minds, but Scully still felt acutely like the sidekick.

So she let him drive. Let him feel like the big macho man. She could keep her silent treatment going for eons.

Mulder could feel Scully's bad mood glaring at him, digging holes in his skin. Even if the redhead in question was staring vacantly out of the window, the mood was as present in the car as they were. Her neat little hands were coiled fists, her left on her thigh, her right burrowed in the space behind her ear, with her elbow resting on the car window shelf. Her fingers played with the darker hairs at the nape of her neck, and Scully wondered if she ought to get it trimmed soon. She was an old hand at letting people stew. She could sit Mulder out, easy.

Mulder wasn't quite so assured. His eyes kept shifting over to his partner, feeling the guilt squeeze his heart in a vice grip. Scully didn't give him an inch, and all he got was the back of her coiffed head.

Mulder coughed. Scully didn't move. He didn't want to cough again, worried he'd cause the patented Scullyglare. Fearsome and terrible to behold, and excruciating to be on the receiving end of it.

Finally, he couldn't take it any longer.

Before he could stop himself, with one last glance to his partner, Mulder steeled himself. His finger pressed the button. Scully whipped her head around as "Be My Baby" flooded the car. Her surprise was written clear across her face, as the sickly-sweet tune filled the space between them.

"Mulder." She called, in a dull tone. She wasn't going to let him think it was that easy to make her crack.

"Be my, be my baby, my one and only baby!" Mulder sang, tapping the beat on the top of the steering wheel with his long fingers.

Scully could only watch in disbelief as Mulder, for lack of a better term, went for it.

"Mulder!" She tried again.

"Say you'll be my darling, be my baby now, oh oh oh oh oh oh!" His voice cracked in falsetto. Scully couldn't help it, she let out a laugh.

She was still irritated at his conduct, but the sight of her spooky partner singing loudly to the lovestruck Ronettes was too much for her sense of humour to handle. Smirking, she joined in. The sullen silence has dissipated, for now, as the two FBI partners sang badly a cheesy 60s classic.

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 **Thank you for your time, review if you please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Number 2 has arrived, and here comes Dana Scully putting the bi in FBI. Song is David Bowie's** ** _John, I'm Only Dancing_** **, and I recommed the sax version.**

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Despite being shorter than most people present, Scully could elbow her way through crowds like no other. It was a skill developed in high school corridors, and came in very handy when she needed to get somewhere and the 'take no prisoners' walk was simply not enough. Her target? One Monica Reyes, dancing awkwardly with Doggett.

John clearly didn't attend many of the FBI parties. He didn't seem to know where to put his hands, and seemed reluctant to touch Monica, so he kept them flat against his hips and swung back and forth. Off-beat. Scully though he resembled a particularly manic pendulum, or a tightly-wound wind-up toy.

"May I cut in?" Scully smiled charmingly at Monica, who looked at her in barely-concealed relief. John looked a little put-out, but Dana simply slid her body between them, grasped Monica's outstretched hand and began to dance smoothly.

Doggett's hands jerked, closed and opened, before he moved away, feeling like a third wheel. He made his way over to the punch, and decided to just watch from the sidelines. He'd be a wallflower for tonight, he sighed to himself. He helped himself to a generous serving of punch.

Turning back to face the dance floor, Doggett watched Monica and Scully dance. His insides squirmed as Scully placed her small hands on Monica's waist; fingers splayed upwards to her ribs, and pulled her closer. Doggett's heart constricted, and jealousy began to seep in.

"Reyes and Scully look like they're having fun," Skinner appeared at Doggett's side suddenly, holding his own cup of punch. Doggett gave a noncommittal grunt, keeping his eyes on the two women, who looked to be dancing closer now, all smiles and eye contact. Skinner looked curiously at Doggett, before moving away. Maybe the man needed some space.

Doggett stewed for half a song, declining a few offers to dance. Skinner's assistant seemed determined to get him onto the dance floor, and would flirt and bat her eyelashes in an attempt to entrance him. As politely as he could manage after the fifth attempt, Doggett turned her down, choosing instead to wallow in his jealousy.

Suddenly Scully made eye contact with him, and smiled secretively. John could see how her fingers squeezed around Monica's waist, and how Monica looked dreamily at the redhead. Monica's hands rested on Scully's narrow shoulder blades, and with every pulse of the beat, the pair moved closer together. It made Doggett's stomach twist with envy.

" _John, I'm only dancing! She turns me on, but I'm only dancing!_ " The lyrics seemed to be ironically, painfully perfect for his miserable situation. Scully was still making eye contact over Monica's bare shoulder, and her mouth moved to the words.

" _She turns me on, but don't get me wrong; I'm only dancing!_ " Dana slid her eyes shut, her hands wandering up Monica's back. Subtly, she turned the taller woman to the side, allowing Doggett the best possible view, before planting a sweet kiss on her cheek. The music was too loud to hear her, but she mouthed a 'thank you' to Monica, with a winning smile.

Doggett felt sucker-punched, like all the air in the room had suddenly disappeared and he was left gasping like a fish.

Scully's eyes met his again, and there was an unreadable look in them as the finishing strains of Bowie played. Then she turned back to Monica with a completely different look, and patted her arm affectionately. Having said her goodbyes, Scully moved off of the dance floor, towards Doggett.

"She's all yours," she said huskily, with a clear look of warning in her eyes. The threat to his person should he hurt Monica was transmitted through the set of her jaw and the harsh line of her brow. Doggett watched Scully leave discreetly.

Then he turned back towards Monica.

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 **Hope you enjoyed, leave a review if you please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I just want a story where I can experience Mulder and Scully dancing lovingly to soft jazz. Thus this fic was born, inspired by "Easy Living" by the incomporable Billie Holiday. I really recommed listening to it, because it's just so lovely.**

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The case was done, packed up. The rental car had been dropped off, cheque in the attendant's hand. Their shared basement office locked, and Mulder and Scully had said their goodbyes for the weekend, Mulder watching Scully drive away with a little wave. For a while he stood in the FBI car park, trying to bring himself to move, go home.

Trouble was, his apartment didn't feel like a welcoming prospect anymore. Mulder liked his solitary ways sometimes, but this particular afternoon he felt he needed company. The Gunmen were not the antidote to his melancholy mood, but he knew exactly who was.

After deciding to take the shuttle home, Mulder wondered how likely it was that Scully would come over his place, and let herself unwind. Maybe with a glass of wine. But nothing like with Van Blundht, the rat bastard. All of Mulder's insecurities suddenly compiled inside him like a punch to the nose. Of course Scully wouldn't want reminding of the night Van Blundht tricked her into thinking he was her partner, and tried to get a little cosier. Inadequacy and rage pooled in Mulder's stomach, and he had to flex his hands a few times to release the anger.

Maybe if he called to ask her expertise on a case... no, he didn't want to remind Scully of work when he wanted to relax with her. What if he just asked her over, no pretense, no case to hide behind? What if he just invited her over purely for the pleasure of her company?

Or what if he just showed up at her apartment?

He'd probably get kicked out within about ten seconds. Scully was a patient woman, but she most likely didn't want to see him until Monday morning.

But it was worth a try.

Stopping at a liquor store for a nice bottle of red, Mulder walked to Scully's from the shuttle. It had begun to get dark, and the lamplights faded into bursts of brilliance, each leading him towards Scully.

Wow, maybe he needed to ease off the poetry and romance.

Mulder wondered how long it would take Scully to give him that special exasperated "For God's sake, Mulder" look and tell him to go home. He hoped against hope that she would let him in. He really didn't feel like going home alone tonight, and knew it would be a dull and boring weekend without her.

Suddenly he found himself at the door to her apartment block. Taking a deep breath (he wasn't sure what for, it was just Scully), he jumped up the dteps three at a time, and let himself in. After stairs, he was in front of her door. He abruptly realised that he was still in his goddamn suit from the office, and knew without a doubt that he'd find it hard to be relaxed whilst wearing this monkey suit. Oh, well, too late now.

Mulder raised a hand to knock, then faltered. Squaring his shoulders, he let his knuckles rap smartly against the door. No going back now. He heard the padding of feet behind the door, and imagined Scully in her cute slippers (a Christmas gift from her Mother). He smiled at the sweet mental image.

Then the door opened and what he saw was even better than the slippers. Scully was the epitome of casual, in soft blue boyfriend jeans and a white vest, gold cross still winking at the base of her throat. Mulder instantly decided to make her wear jeans permanently around the office.

"Mulder? What are you doing here? Are you alright?" _Not after those jeans_. Mulder jerked himself out of his reverie, and blinked rapidly.

"Yeah, Scully, I'm fine. I, uh, brought a bottle of red. Can I come in?" Scully tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, amused. She stepped back to open the door wider, and Mulder stepped in.

"Sure thing, come on in." Mulder set the wine bottle on her counter while Scully fetched a bottle-opener. Carefully, she screwed the metal spiral into the cork and yanked, the bottle giving a satisfying _pop._ Scully poured, handed a glass to Mulder, and beckoned him over to her living room. Scully set some music playing, smooth jazz. Very relaxing.

They both sat down. Mulder liked the way Scully sat in her own home, legs tucked under her, arm resting on the back of the sofa. It was cute, and Mulder felt himself smile goofily at her.

"So to what do I owe the pleasure, Mulder?"

"No real reason, Scully, I just wanted to see you outside of work. Relax together, if that's okay." Mulder didn't know why he was so nervous. _It's just Scully_.

"Of course, but you're still wearing your suit."

"So I am," Mulder smiled bemusedly, and took of his blazer and tie. He untucked his shirt, and thought he saw Scully's eyes follow the hem as it brushed his abdomen. Smirking, he let it fall, and sat back down on the couch, "Better?"

"Much." Was all Scully said, as she took her first sip of wine. Mulder watched her neck move as she swallowed. Oh, God, he was alone with Dana Scully. In her apartment.

"Good?" Scully looked confusedly at him, tilting her head the way a puppy would. It was so outrageously endearing, Mulder felt his heart squeeze. _Warning, too much Dana Scully can cause heart palpitations if not taken diluted_.

"The wine, is it okay?"

"Oh, yes, it's very nice. Where did you get it?"

"Oh, just the liquor store." Scully made a humming noise.

Both of them knew this conversation sounded banal, but to them it was balm. They spent so much time investigating and discussing the paranormal, it was something of a relief to talk about normal things. Like where the wine was from, how they were. Mulder and Scully knew they needed the repreive, the rest from the high-octane department they worked for.

They fell into companiable silence for the time being, Scully swinging her head gently to the music. Mulder closed his eyes and let out a breath, feeling the week leave his lungs. He filled them with the smell of Scully's home.

When he opened his eyes again, Scully had also closed her eyes, and tilted her head back to rest on the back of the sofa. Mulder let a hand rest on her knee to get her attention. Scully opened her eyes in surprise at the sudden, but not unwelcome, contact.

"Can I have this dance?" Mulder smiled his most charming smile, holding out an inviting hand, and Scully half-smiled back. _W_ _hat the hell_. She took it, marvelling at the size and warmth of it.

Mulder pulled her up gently, holding her hand like it was glass, and turned the music up. Billie Holiday's _Easy Living_ slipped smoothly out of the radio, soft piano setting the rhythm for the pair. Mulder steeled himself and gathered Scully close to him. He brought his hand to rest on her back, right in between her shoulderblades. His left and her right hand gripped each other tight, and they began to sway to the easy beat.

" _I'm happy to do, whatever I do for you_ ," sang Billie, and Mulder squeezed her hand at the lyric, and Scully looked up at him fondly. She let her head rest on his chest, and Mulder didn't even hesitate to plant a soft kiss in her hair. He felt utterly at home, his hand in hers and her arm around his waist, her comforting smell all around him.

Both had their eyes closed, savouring their shared closeness and warmth. Mulder and Scully danced slowly and tenderly, and didn't stop when the song was over.

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 **I'm giving myself the warm fuzzies just imagining this scene, and I hope you liked it too! Review, if you please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Apologies for the rather large gap in updates, the muse left me cold. But I've got another chapter, and another song to go with it. This chapter's song is Foxes'** ** _White Coats_** **, which I think perfectly sums up Scully's feelings for Mulder in regards to her abduction.**

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"You're good to go, Miss Scully," Doctor James told her brightly, her patient sheet filled in on her clipboard, "Just take it easy, rest, and don't let us see you again soon." Her doctor was very cheerful, for that Scully was grateful. She knew she could have had a real miser.

"Thank you, Dr. James, I'll do my best." Scully attempted at humour, but it seemed to fall flat. She didn't have much energy for comedy these days. Dr. James smiled anyway.

"No problem. A Mr. Mulder is waiting at Reception for you, he says he has your clothes for going home." At this Scully was genuinely shocked. Mulder was taking her home? But surely her mom would have come? At her look of surprise, Dr. James backtracked, her dark eyes turning concerned.

"Were you expecting someone else?"

"Y-yes, I suppose, he's my partner."

"Oh, then that's fine, if you two are together-" Scully's eyes widened at the assumption.

"No, no, he's my work partner, we work together." She hastened to explain, wondering why she was so adamant in denying her and Mulder's relationship. They weren't a couple, just colleagues.

"Well, he's a very dedicated work partner then, I'll send him through if you're ready?" Dr. James recovered quickly from Scully's panicky explanation, and pushed her coily hair away from her face.

"Yes, please, thank you." Scully nodded. She was eager to get out of her uncomfortable, papery hospital gown, and Mulder had her clothes. She wasn't going to turn him away.

Feeling suddenly tired, Scully lay back on the bed, staring up at the plaster ceiling. The white swirls were almost hypnotising, and they almost reminded her of powerful lamplights, like the ones in surgeries. Like the ones she saw in her odd dreams-

" _No_!" Scully gritted her teeth, pushing against the blurry memory. Running her hands through the hair at her temples, she gripped and tugged lightly. Scully forced herself to calm down, to let go of her hair. She wasn't going to dwell on what happened to her, she was going to move on and go home and go back to work with Mulder.

"Scully?" She looked up, surprised. There he was, hair messy, eyes a little tired, clothes wrinkled. Scully wondered briefly if he'd slept in his clothes, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Mulder." Scully ducked her head, hiding her features.

"Okay," he said, slightly awkwardly. They hadn't had much chance to talk since she had woken up. All of her time was taken up with her family, which was absolutely right, Mulder reminded herself. He's just her crackpot FBI partner. "Well, I brought some of your clothes, Melissa helped me pick some stuff out."

Scully immediately looked up. If Melissa had been spending time with Mulder, she was in for a world of interrogation from her sister as to why she wasn't on _that_. She shuddered to think the kind of questions Melissa was cooking up for their next dinner.

"Oh, okay. Give them to me, and I'll sort myself out." Scully reached out, and Mulder handed her the bag. Their fingers brushed briefly, and Scully pulled away fast. Mulder just left his hands stretched out, feeling the lingering coldness of her hands. _Cold hands, warm heart_.

Scully retreated into the back room, and Mulder sat on her hospital bed, feeling like the awkward loner he was. Their relationship had disintegrated in light of her abduction. All of their light back-and-forth had suddenly evaporated in the seriousness of her medical situation. They had a _gravestone_ made for her, for God's sake.

He almost lost her. And that thought scared him more than anything else in this universe. Somehow, within almost a year, Scully had become such an important component in his life that her dissappearence left him reeling and left adrift. When she was found and hospitalized, his hope had grown tentatively, only to be dashed when the reality of her coma hit him.

When she did wake up, he felt like the one who wasn't supposed to be there. Surrounded by close family, Scully was absolutely fine without him. Even with the strength of his beliefs, she was suddenly very far away.

Speaking of which, Scully came out of the back room looking almost normal. Simple t-shirt and jeans, with a soft blue pullover that Mulder had found in a bottom drawer. Melissa had widened her eyes at it, and mentioned casually that it looked good on Dana. And Fox Mulder agreed wholeheartedly.

Candid Scully was a vision. So much soft blue and white, with the lovely red of her hair complimenting the whole look. She looked positively patriotic, with all of her red, white and blue, and Mulder felt like a Fourth of July firework just looking at her.

"Ready to go?" She asked him lightly, fluffing out her hair.

"That's my line," Mulder smiled, remembering himself. He stood up, and instantly felt the familiarity when Scully had to look up at him again, "Let's get you home, Scully."

Scully simply smiled at him, and suddenly the clouds parted. A Dana Scully smile, a genuine one, could cure cancer. Mulder was certain that she could do enormous help just showing off her pearly whites at any sick person. She'd be a medical wonder, in every way. They left the room, Mulder shutting the door behind them.

Scully was having her own private moment of familiarity. Being able to just look at Mulder in all of his dishevelled glory felt so right, like he'd just come to her door after staying up all night chasing leads. She looked down at his palms, swinging loosely by his thighs as they made their way out of the ward. Her mother had told her about how Mulder had held her hands so tightly, like he could tether her to this world with his fingers.

"He's a special breed, Dana, and he feels very strongly for you." Scully had just turned away, not willing to get her hopes up. Her... kidnapping had opened up a world of feelings she didn't know how to handle. She had never dealt with strong emotions very well, her dating history was enough proof of that. And bringing those feelings into the workplace was possibly the worst idea ever conceived.

She knew that Mulder, with his obsessive nature, would not be able to leave feelings at the office door. Not that she was any better, of course. She hadn't exactly been rational when she decided that dating her married professor was alright.

As they arranged themselves in Mulder's car, the pair remained mostly silent during the entire drive to Scully's apartment. Mulder was focusing steadfastedly on the road, and not on his partner, who he _wanted_ to hold in his arms and never let anyone near her again. But he didn't think that would be well received, somehow. So he kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road.

Scully wanted his comfort and warmth, his big hand around her little one. The memories swirling around her mind were too brightly-lit, and she wanted a little darkness, a little memory loss. She didn't want to confront the fact that someone had gone out of their way to assault _her_ and abduct _her_ and leave _her_ for dead. Sully screwed her eyes shut, and balled her hands into tight fists. She pushed the feelings down forcefully.

She had never been a good victim, in fact the very idea of it made her recoil automatically. She was a mature, capable and rational medical doctor and FBI agent. She wasn't anyone's victim.

But her kidnappping had left her adrift, just like those odd dreams she had in her coma of her father. Metaphorically, she was tethered by a fraying rope, and Mulder was on the jetty, his hand outstretched. If only she could reach out for him. She needed to know that he would be there, a comfort and another human. Being alone terrified her, she didn't want Mulder to say his awkward goodbyes and go home to his own apartment. She wanted him near her, preferably in her arms.

But that wasn't possible, and never would be.

They reached her apartment building, and Mulder killed the engine, already moving out of the car to open Scully's door for her. Let it not be said that he was not chivalrous, given the right moment.

They trudged up the steps together, and as they reached her door, Scully couldn't help herself.

"Mulder," she said, breaking the half an hour long silence between them, "Would you, I mean, could you, um, stay? With me?" She stuttered, feeling like she was asking out her first crush all over again. So much for mature adult woman.

Mulder's face transformed into an enormous smile, so big she wasn't sure if his face could even contain it.

"Of course."

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 **I really hope you listen to the song, it just fits so _well_. I also hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm particularly proud of this one. It may also be the longest. Leave a review, if you please!**


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